Explore
by repmetsyrrah
Summary: S/T AU. Sybil helps her husband explore new ways of 'seeing' things. Part of my blind Tom AU.


**A/N:** Part of my blind Tom AU, set sometime after _Touch_. I've decided to keep the M-rated fics of this AU separate from the main collection, _Darkness_, so I can keep that rating as it is.

This particular moment was written for the S/T smut weekend on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy.

Thanks as always to babegeneush for the beta.

**Exploration**

* * *

"How do you want me?" Sybil asks.

She means the question to sound natural but it comes out breathless, almost a little apprehensive. She's not sure why she's nervous when she looks at him, already lying on the bed, casually naked as the day he was born.

"On your back," her husband says, after a moment's contemplation.

Sybil nods, before wincing at her thoughtlessness. "Okay," she agrees, out loud, glad she had asked that the fire be stoked higher as she slips out of her dressing gown, leaving herself as naked as him before moving to the bed.

He lies on his side, facing her, his head propped up on one arm as his eyes stare blankly into nothing. It's a sight Sybil's growing used to, though she'll never tell him how long it took her to be able to look at his face without her heart tearing at the sight of his once bright eyes, now so dull and unseeing.

She lies down, on her back as requested, resting her head on the pillow and placing her arms somewhat awkwardly at her sides.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," she assures him, suddenly feeling silly.

This is _Tom_ for goodness sake, how could she ever be nervous with him?

Hadn't she been the one to suggest this in the first place? The idea coming to her after a particularly bad day, when Tom had broken a picture frame in a fit of frustration after realising it was the one that contained one of his favourite pictures of her.

He would never see her again, and it hurt both of them.

But there were ways, as she always found herself saying now.

"_There are other ways, Tom." _

Other ways to read, to write... other ways to see his wife.

She looks at him as he lies beside her and realises he's waiting for some sort of sign, a signal that it's okay for him to start.

Sybil reaches out and takes his hand, kissing it gently before letting it rest on her face, waiting.

He starts slowly and softly, like he always does, just above her eye, running his fingers down her nose, letting them fall onto her lips, pressing softly onto the path his own mouth knew well.

He takes his time, letting the comfortable silence settle over them as he explores her face, relearning the shape of it, how it feels, letting the touch become as familiar to him as the sight of it had once been.

After a while he moves on, his fingers following the line of her jaw and playing down her neck, tracing her collarbone along to her shoulder, before hesitating.

He smiles and Sybil can't help joining him before his hand brushes down her arm, and she can't help the small sigh of disappointment that escapes her.

He laughs as his hand brushes back up to her shoulder, before venturing to her lips again.

"In good time, love," he promises her.

She thinks he's teasing her and perhaps that is part of it but as he returns his hand to her arm he sits up, shifting so that he's kneeling on the bed beside her. Sybil waits but he doesn't instruct her further and she remains on her back, lying in front of him as he reaches out to take her hand with both his own.

He holds it in one of his own as the fingers of his other hand start at her wrist and run lightly across her palm. She knows he'll hear her breathing change then, his other senses having been heightened in the absence of his sight.

She can't help it. She's not sure how he's doing it but she feels his touch on her hand through her whole body, his fingertips igniting sparks that race through her arm and burst in her chest.

He's slowly falling out of the habit of facing towards things- there's no need for him to do so after all- and Sybil watches as he smiles softly at her gasps, not stopping until his hands have felt every inch of hers, turning them every way and examining them from every angle.

She's almost disappointed when he puts it down but she hopes she knows what he wants to see next.

He leans forward slightly, giving both his hands access to her body. They start at her shoulders and move down again, this time moving down and in, his mouth turning upwards as he lets his hands stroke the soft curves of her breasts until they grow more sensitive to his touch, leaving Sybil breathing heavier still.

She bites her lip as his hands continue their exploration, touching, brushing, caressing

- she gasps-

- _pinching_.

Her body arches up of its own accord, pushing further into his touch as his fingers lightly tug at her nipples, and he grins, feeling her response and quite obviously proud of himself for it.

His hands move lower and she can't help a small groan of disappointment as he moves to her stomach.

Without thinking, her hand reaches out, catching his, stopping it from going further.

He can't see the marks on her skin, but she knows he'll feel the changes, the looseness that remains from her pregnancy. She knows it's normal but she dislikes it, the way it hangs and sags.

It feels ugly.

"No." He takes her hand and places it gently back beside her.

"I haven't quite… recovered," she tells him, her tone almost apologetic.

"No," Tom repeats, shaking his head. "Don't say that as if it's something bad. You are _beautiful_," he tells her, not a hint of doubt in his voice.

"I thought that the moment I first saw you." He closes his eyes, an unbroken habit as his mouth turns upwards, and Sybil knows he's thinking of that first day again, when something had changed- though neither of them could ever have imagined how much.

He opens his eyes again as he places both his hands on her stomach, running them over every inch of it. "You've carried our daughter," he says softly, "and it's only made you more beautiful."

He leans over and kisses her stomach, like he had so many times before when Saoirse was still safe within it. He doesn't sit back up though, kissing her again, moving his way back up until he returns to her breasts, still sensitive from his earlier explorations.

He places a kiss gently on one before flicking his tongue out and she can't help the breathless plea that escapes her.

"_Tom-_"

He moves, never losing contact with her as he lifts himself up and across until he's hovering over her and Sybil breaks her side of the bargain, unable to stop her hands reaching into his hair and pulling him down into a heated kiss.

"You weren't supposed to move," he reminds her softly, as they part.

"You moved first," she reminds him, even though he was 'allowed'.

He doesn't reply, and Sybil knows they've moved on, and she doesn't mind at all, reaching a hand downwards, taking her turn to touch him as she wants.

It's not long before he's ready and, neither wanting to wait a second longer, he sinks into her, eliciting a relieved sigh which merges with his own.

She knows what he wants- what he needs.

Touch.

She pushes up onto him, pulling him deeper into her and scraping her nails across his back as he moves faster, trying to get as much contact as possible, letting him feel her.

Letting him _see_ her.

His hand comes up and rests lightly on her face and she understands, letting herself go as his movements quickly finish what his hands started and she unravels. His fingers trace her face as she shatters, watching her the only way he can.

He lets himself go a moment later, joining her and holding her close until they're both spent, collapsing back onto the bed, lying breathlessly for a few moments before he rolls off her and Sybil follows, shifting so she lies against his side, always touching him.

"You didn't even make it past my hips," she tells him, once she can think again, trying to sound disappointed, though not quite managing it.

Tom grins, raising, raising an eyebrow. "I beg to differ."

"With your _hands_," Sybil reminds him, grinning herself as he laughs.

Not that she's disappointed at all by how their 'experiment' ended- which was how they both knew it would, really- but he is _so_ good with his hands... She knows he could work _wonders_ if he'd gotten that far...

Tom just shrugs and leans up to kiss her again, smiling against her lips.

"I guess we'll have to try again tomorrow," he promises her.


End file.
